


Shuichi Saihara's Bizarre Adventure

by Filthmonger



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Adult Hiyoko Saionji, Blackmail, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Doggy Style, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Forced Orgasm, Hot Springs & Onsen, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Multiple Sex Positions, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Technology, Threesome - F/F/M, Towels, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, X-ray Vision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23498041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthmonger/pseuds/Filthmonger
Summary: The Ultimate Detective tracks down a mysterious voyeur with cameras planted throughout the school. Including the onsen. Where he and Maki Harukawa just so happen to be.Shenanigans ensue.Set in the UTDP Universe.
Relationships: Harukawa Maki/Saihara Shuichi, Iruma Miu/Saihara Shuichi, Koizumi Mahiru/Saionji Hiyoko, Koizumi Mahiru/Saionji Hiyoko/Saihara Shuichi
Kudos: 121





	1. I Spy

Exhaling slowly, Shuichi Saihara brushed the beaded curtain out of his way. A wave of heat washed over him, his bare feet padding across slippery rocks. He tightened the towel around his waist: even with no one else in the onsen, Shuichi still felt eyes burning into him. He took a deep breath of steam, let it flow through his skinny body, and for a moment, there was peace. Nothing but the gravel and sand crunching underfoot. A bright blue sky above, framed by the pale wooden walls to keep away prying eyes.

Something splashed. Shuichi tensed but forced himself to settle down. Must’ve been someone in the girl’s side. 

Shuichi sat down with a nervous laugh and let his calves dangle in the water. He ran a hand through his short black hair and sighed; jumping at noises, now? Maybe he shouldn’t have come. Then all that time waiting for the right moment would be wasted. He wasn’t going to go with Kaito, no matter how much he asked. Or with anyone really.

He slid his hands through the gravel around the pool. The tension melted from his legs as they soaked, the sensation creeping its way up his body. His thumb ran around the top of his towel, the temptation at odds with his anxieties. It’s not like anyone would turn up and see him, right? And, well… it was a bath.

Sighing, he let his hand drop back to the rocks. Dammit. Try as he might, that niggling worry stayed at the back of his head. Shuichi sat back, staring up at the clear sky, trying not to berate himself too hard.

And spotted a pair of eyes looking down at him.

Before he had a chance to shout, the eyes vanished. A shadow vaulted over the wall. Scrambling back, Shuichi held his towel close as the shadow stuck its landing, crouched like a tiger. A vicious glare shot through a cascade of black hair. He knew that glare.

“Maki!” Shuichi squeaked, “What’re you doing?”

She pressed a finger to her lips. Leaping across the pool, Maki’s hand lashed out. An iron grip pulled Shuichi by the wrist, yanking him to his feet and throwing him into a corner. His back thudded against the wall. And again, as her forearm rammed into his torso. Shuichi’s heart pounded in his chest as the Ultimate Assassin pinned him against the wall. His face burnt, his nervous gaze flicking between the subtle muscles in her arms and the frown on her marble features. Like him, she only wore a white towel.

“What- ?”

“Quiet,” Maki hissed.

Her hair, typically tied in twin-tails, draped around her body like willow branches. The rest of her matched: pale, slender, but firm. Red eyes, sharp as knives, locked with his as she pressed herself against him. Tense like a drawn bowstring, every inch of her body threatened to end his life.

He spoke in the same hushed tone as her. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

“Do you see it?”

“See what?”

“Above the door. To the left, behind the bamboo.”

Shuichi craned his neck.

“Don’t look at it.” Maki slid her arm up to his throat. “Not directly.”

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking at.”

She pursed her lips. “There’s a camera.”

“A what-?”

“Shush!”

Shuichi swallowed, feeling a bead of cold sweat run down his neck. He kept his eyes firmly on Maki, but did his best to shift his attention, until… there, peeking out between two stalks. Nothing more than a dark spot that glinted at just the right angle.

“How did you know?” He asked.

“There’s one on the girl’s side as well.” Maki relaxed, though she didn’t move off of him. “And in the locker room. I suspect there’s a fourth.”

“Spying on the guys as well. That’d make sense, I guess.” His ears burnt as bright as his cheeks as the realisation set in. Out here, he had the towel, but back in there… “S-so, are we being watched right now?”

“Maybe. I think this corner is out of its line of sight.” If the closeness was affecting her, Maki didn’t let it show. Just the same steely glare and professional attitude. “I don’t know if it has a microphone either. If there’s a live feed, then checking it will just give away what I know.”

“And then whoever’s watching can get away.”

“Precisely.”

Shuichi held his chin, bowing his head in thought. “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“No.” She said bluntly. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. You are the Ultimate Detective, after all.”

“I-I… I guess.” More like the ultimate pretender. The real Ultimate Detective would already know what to do. “But wouldn’t it be easier to talk to Kirigiri? She’s actually worked on more than one case. And it wouldn’t be hard to get her into the locker room with you either. If someone sees us both in here…”

“It could be anyone, Shuichi. If I told the wrong person, then it could spread, and the voyeur would disappear.”

She leant in, her face a scarce inch from his. Shuichi’s breath hitched. 

“This has to be between us,” Maki whispered.

His face burnt bright as his body reacted on its own. He could smell her: a faint undertone of roses. Any closer and it’d be more than just her arms pressing against his bare chest. Shuichi swallowed back a lump in his throat, torn between breaking away from those terrifyingly stern eyes and keeping his gaze from wandering. Why were the towels so small…?

“How do you know I’m not the voyeur?” He joked.

Her pupils narrowed. “Do you want to die?”

“I-I was kidding!”

“This isn’t the time for it.” Maki’s face didn’t soften. “I trust you, Shuichi. I know you’re the least likely to spy like this.”

He hated how well she knew him. Shuichi shifted uncomfortably, trying to pry himself from between her and the wall. “Okay, I-I’ll see what I can do. Just let me-”

She shoved him back against the wood. “Don’t move.”

“What? If you’re right, and there’s a live feed…”

“Then they’ve already seen me drag you over here. What’s it going to look like if you just walk away?”

He considered it. “Like we’re already onto them. But we can’t stay here either.”

“I knew that was a risk. That’s why I had to be sure it was you before coming over.” Her turn to break eye contact. “We need to make this seem… natural.”

“Natural how?”

Maki’s lips pressed into a pout, a startling touch of pink coming to her face. “You really don’t get it? We need to make them think that we’re… having sex.”

The gears in Shuichi’s head ground to a halt, snapped their axels, and clattered to the metaphorical floor. He cried out in confusion, the sound cut off by Maki’s hand clasping over his mouth. She shushed him and pressed her body tight against his. Her thigh against his crotch. Was that deliberate? One of his hands had caught between them, stuck against his waist and her fluffy towel. If he moved even slightly, he could trace across her toned stomach.

“Can you think of something better?” Maki whispered, her breath tickling his collarbone.

He tried to piece his brain back together. Try as he might, though, he kept coming to the same conclusion. The voyeur would’ve seen her drop down. Grab him by the wrist. Pull him into a secluded corner, nothing but their towels to cover their naked bodies. Not even the Ultimate Doujinshi Artist could imagine a better set-up for a secret tryst.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

She hesitated. “I’ve done worse. To finish a job, I mean.”

Shuichi’s hands instinctively moved to her waist. More to comfort her than anything. She flinched at his touch, and he backed off before her hands pulled him back. He’d never seen her so vulnerable before: she couldn’t keep her gaze level, or her hands from trembling on his chest. Shit. What did he do? Should he… should he kiss her?

“How do we make it convincing?” He whispered.

“We could do it. Right in front of the camera.”

“W-what?!”

That steely glare again; Shuichi’s heart stopped. And then Maki smiled with a touch of genuine warmth. “Are you scared?”

“A little.”

“Good.” She whipped his towel away from him.

Shuichi made to cover himself, squeaking as she tossed the fluffy white fabric to the ground. With practised speed, her foot knocked his knees out from under him and threw him as easily as she would a bundle of clothes. He hit the towel, skidding across the gravel and sand beneath. His gaze flashed over to the camera before he caught himself. No doubt about it, he was in full view. Trying to play it off, Shuichi turned up to Maki, voice dying in his throat.

Her towel slipped away as she walked towards him with the presence of a snow leopard. Long legs flowed into the subtle curves of her hips and waist. Faint lines of lithe muscle rippled under porcelain skin. A pair of petite, perky breasts topped with pink tips, faintly bouncing with each step. Maki pushed her hair back, a cascade of black down her shoulders.

“You don’t have to stare…” Maki’s eyes traced down his body, widening as her blush brightened.

Shuichi crossed his legs, desperately trying to ignore where all his blood flowed to. Maki’s chuckle didn’t help. Her towel fluttered onto the ground, and she crawled across it. She pried his legs apart – perhaps a bit too eagerly, he thought – and chewed her lip.

“I should’ve guessed you liked it this way.” Maki slid her hands up his thighs.

“What way?” Shuichi sat up. Or tried to: a quick shove on his shoulder and Maki forced him back down. Oh. That way. “We can stop if it’s not okay.”

She gave him an unimpressed look. Darting forward, Maki dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock. A shudder and a gasp escaped him. Shuichi’s hands curled around the towel with every lick. Elegant fingers curled around his shaft, moving in jerky pumps. All the while, her mouth assaulted him with ticklish pleasure. She wrapped her lips around his tip and purred.

Shuichi’s hips jerked, butting against the roof of her mouth. Maki stared in silent disapproval. One hand slid up his stomach, a firm reminder for him to stay down, while the other slowly stroked him. Her breath caught as he twitched in her grip. The confidence in her eyes waned for a moment. Maki cleared her throat, paused as if trying to muster her courage, and took him into her mouth.

A low groan escaped Shuichi. His head lolled back as her lips slid down his cock, her tongue teasing the underside. A soft ‘mmph’ noise as Maki paused. He could feel her struggling; like there was a barrier in her throat. She took a deep breath and tried again, pushing herself halfway before she gagged.

Shuichi snorted.

Pulling off, Maki blushed and pouted. “Sh-shut up. Do you want to die?”

“I’m sorry, you just- ah!” Shuichi hissed as she swallowed him again. 

Maki’s head bobbed aggressively along his shaft, her hands holding his waist. Shuichi held back a moan as he trembled under her. She was clumsy; too quick, with the occasional scrape of teeth. The wet gulps and gags were almost comical. But Maki never stopped, her tongue working wonders on his tip while her hand jerked along whatever she couldn’t take. Waves of pleasure worked down to his hilt. Bubbled at his base. Shuichi bit his lip as the sensations mounted, leaving his body to shake under her.

“Maki, I’m…” He managed.

A moment’s hesitation before her pace increased. Shuichi’s hips bucked upward. His hands balled around the towel. He closed his eyes, breath ragged and uneven. Everything in his body tensed, begging for release, waiting for one last push. With a final gasp, he broke: pulses ripped up his cock, the pleasure forcing his back to arch. His mind flashed white. His ragged breath slowly came back to him with the last few spurts.

He lay back, his mouth dry and his head full of warm haze. Sweat stuck the towel to his back. Shuichi propped himself up in time to watch Maki slide off his cock. She held a hand in front of her mouth, her cheeks puffed slightly. Steadying herself, she parted her lips with a soft ‘ah’, letting him see the pool of white on her tongue. A fresh flush filled Shuichi’s cheeks. 

She swallowed his cum while her fingers traced down her neck.

“That was… a lot,” Maki panted. She didn’t look him in the eye, though there was no disgust in her voice.

“Sorry,” Shuichi said quickly.

“Don’t…” She shuddered. Pushing herself back on her knees, she gave Shuichi full view of what made her shake: her fingers slipping into her sparkling cunt. He stared for a long second; breath held. Maki bit her lip and silently pleaded, spreading her legs a little wider, gasping as her thumb brushed over her clit.

Shuichi swallowed down the lump in his throat. He couldn’t stop while the camera was still watching. Crawling forward, he ran his hands up Maki’s body; stroking over subtle curves and tight muscle. She flinched, at first, but the more he touched, the more she melted into his hands. Falling backwards together, Shuichi found himself staring down at a very different Maki: shy and nervous, far out of her comfort zone.

“We can-” He started.

“No.” Her hands slid down his chest. “We have to make it look good.”

For whom? Shuichi wondered. He kissed down her neck and over her collarbone, teasing out soft gasps. Her trembling fingers ran through his hair. Arching her back, Maki pressed her hips against his; brushing across his hardening cock. He ground on her cunt, his sensitive skin lighting up with pleasure that bordered on pain, her arousal burning against him. She didn’t look at him, but the way she bit her lip let him know just how desperate she was.

He slid in easily. Maki tensed beneath him, sucking in a ragged breath. Warmth squeezed around Shuichi’s cock as he sank down to his hilt. Her hips rolled, and he nearly collapsed atop her, his legs shaking from the raw pleasure flooding him. It took a few clumsy thrusts for him to find his rhythm; pounding his hips down as she quivered beneath him. Gravel crunched in time to the slap of his hips meeting hers. Every breath was laced with a moan or a grunt.

Maki’s skin glistened with sweat; her eyes closed, and her mouth half-open. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him tight against her body. Shuichi buried his face in her shoulder, kissing along her neck. That faint rose smell filled his world. His legs burned. His back ached. But still, he kept going, spurred on by how good it felt. He almost forgot about the camera entirely. Shuichi pushed himself onto his elbows and watched as Maki’s head lolled back. A scant inch between his face and hers. The same ragged breath as the tension built in them both.

He kissed her.

Any other time, Shuichi would’ve called it a death sentence. Maki’s eyes snapped open, a whimper crushed by his lips. For a split second, his heart stopped. And then her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and her tongue met his. Nails dug into his skin. She squeezed and writhed and squealed against him. One hand held his head as they made out on the floor, her grip growing more painful until something inside her broke. Spasms rippled through her. Maki’s thighs tightened around him, pulling him as deep into her cunt as she could, while every inch of her shook with a silent scream.

The pressure at Shuichi’s base bubbled over. He slammed down, pulses ripping up his cock as his brain short-circuited again. His hips ground with hers. White haze flooded his mind. He pumped his cum inside her, and she held him tight. The kiss broke apart, the two of them snatching short breaths as their bodies unwound. Exhaustion settled in Shuichi’s limbs, and he fell atop Maki, feeling her chest rise and fall against his own.

“That was amazing…” He breathed.

Maki said nothing, panting as her hand ran up his neck and through his dishevelled hair. They lay together for a few moments, shifting only to let Shuichi pull his cock out of her, nothing but a sweaty mess.

Maki licked her dry lips. “You finished inside me.”

Shuichi froze. “I-I didn’t-”

“Do you want to die?”

“No, it was an accident, I just…!” He pushed off her and found a weak smile instead of the glare he’d expected.

“You should have warned me.” Maki slid her hand down to her cunt. It was hard to tell if she was embarrassed, given how flushed her whole body was. Cum leaked out between her fingers, staining the towel beneath.

“Sorry. I’ll do better next- I mean, not like we’re going to…” He dropped back onto his towel, fumbling for the right words.

She flushed red. “Just… You know what to do.”

Maki stumbled and fell against the wooden wall, his cum dripping down her shaking legs. Shuichi reached out, but she raised her hand. Eyes closed, she took a few deep breaths. With barely a start, she launched herself up, climbing the wall like a spider and hurling herself over the top. A soft splash later and the springs went quiet.

Sitting back and blinking, Shuichi tried to process what had just happened.

By the time his brain reasserted itself, he’d stood up and shuffled his way back to the locker room. He didn’t want to be the jerk who cleaned himself off in the hot spring, after all. He flicked his gaze around the cramped space, trying to run himself through the motions of showering while keeping an eye out for another shiny black lens.

Now he knew what to look for it didn’t take long; it pointed directly at the showers. Shuichi resisted the urge to cover himself – that’d be too obvious. The mechanical gaze burnt into his back.

The thing with Maki didn’t mean anything, did it?

Shuichi shoved the thought out of his mind. She’d said it herself; it was the only way they could get past. And, sure, he had enjoyed it. They both had. It wouldn’t make things awkward between them, it was just part of the investigation. The hit, the job, the ‘kill.’ Of course, if the feed wasn’t live, then, well…

He turned the shower cold. He needed to focus.

There was no way to know who had put the camera there. Not at the moment, anyway. So, different question: where had they gotten the cameras from? If they’d been ordered online, that presented a problem. Shuichi glanced at the camera as he turned and headed for his clothes. Something about it nagged him.

Miu Iruma. The Ultimate Inventor. 

She’d be the perfect person to talk to about an academy-wide surveillance network, and he was sure he’d seen a similar camera design in her lab! It wouldn’t even surprise him if she were the voyeur. Well, maybe not, he thought as he pulled his jacket on; Miu was more the type to expose herself on camera. Still, a lead was a lead, no matter where it went.

Not like things could get any weirder, anyway.


	2. Investigating the Inventor

He rapped on the thick steel door for the third time. Apparently, she’d never invented herself a doorbell. Shuichi fidgeted with his cufflinks as he waited, the faint whirr of machinery digging into his ears like pickaxes. That explained why the small, oddly bulbous building was squeezed into a corner on the far side of the campus. Well, that and the occasional explosion, though the Ultimate Mechanic seemed to manage enough of those.

Taking a deep breath, Shuichi ran through the plan one more time: somehow, he had to ask about the camera without raising her suspicions. Miu wasn’t off the list of suspects just because she was, um… inclined a certain way. A blush grew on his cheeks. He still had those goggles she’d given him, the ones with the screens in their lenses. And a folder labelled ‘For Jerk-Off Purposes.’ But they were under his bed, gathering dust, having never been turned on. Not once. Ever.

Maybe once. But he’d never actually watched any of the clips…

Shuichi shook his head to clear it. Dammit, not now! He had to focus. The industrial noises lulled and he knocked again, maybe a bit less politely than he ought to. Several seconds past and he raised his hand to-

The door slid open with a vicious hiss. “What’s your fucking problem, huh?!”

“Hi, Miu.” Shuichi waved.

“Oh, it’s you.” Miu pulled her goggles up to her forehead and blew a strand of rose-gold hair out of her eyes. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”

He kept his eyes firmly on her face for his own sake. “I was just hoping to get something off you if that’s okay.”

“What, you looking for a free gift?” She barked a short, smug laugh. “Wait, let me guess! You ran your way through all those clips I sent you, didn’t ya? Coming here to grovel for more of the gorgeous girl genius to get yourself off with? You’re fucking pathetic!”

Miu put her hands on her hips, unsubtly thrusting her enormous chest forward. The pink sailor uniform strained against her figure. Then again, from the lack of modesty cover and all the leather straps tightening around the under-bust, that was probably the point. Shuichi involuntarily gulped as her cleavage threatened to push out of the small gap above her pastel blue bow.

“Ha! You’re already speechless! Go on, get on your knees and maybe I’ll let you have some of the premium content!”

“No, no! I was just… I wanted to talk about some of your inventions, that’s all!” Shuichi held his hands up defensively. “The non-lewd ones, I mean!”

“That’s what they all say. I’ll bet you’re here for a couple toys or something, right? I ain’t gonna judge you for that shit. I can even show you a few of my favourites! They’ll really make your toes curl!”

“Can I please come in?” He sighed, trying to get all the images out of his head. And failing spectacularly. Unsolicited filenames came rushing back: Tenta01, DoubleTrouble, TheBigLebowski…

Rolling her eyes, Miu stepped aside. Well, enough to let Shuichi slide past, but still force him to squeeze against her. That smug smile confirmed it was deliberate. Shuichi scurried into the enormous lab, brushing aside a curtain that really belonged in a boudoir. Then again that’s how the whole place felt: a purple checkerboard floor and filigree skirting, swarms of painted butterflies flying across the walls, padded countertops in a rouge red… and yet solid steel counters pressed against the sides, loaded with vicious machinery and bubbling beakers. Bare piping wound across the ceiling in confusing branches. A surgeon’s slab sat squat in the centre, surrounded by a series of science-fiction robotic arms.

Shuichi ducked under a comically large circular saw, blinking under intense lamplight. Stepping over to one of the shelves, he pretended to nonchalantly examine a shelf full of steel shapes.

“Careful with those; I don’t remember which ones I’ve cleaned after use.”

He recoiled. Oh, god!

Miu cackled. “What, you think I’m some kinda animal, leaving my toys all sticky and shit? Jeez, you’re worse than I am! And that’s fucking saying something!”

She turned away from him, fiddling with something on a brushed steel desk. “Alright, what the fuck are you here for? And don’t be shy about it, I hate having to drag that shit out of people.”

“Well, um, I was just thinking…” He stumbled over his words. It’d been easier in his head. “Hey, didn’t you have a bunch of cameras up here?”

Miu shrugged. “So what if I did?”

“It’s kind of what I was looking for, actually.”

“Well, too fucking bad, shit-stain. Should’ve dropped your balls and come ask for it sooner, huh?”

Well, here goes nothing, he thought. “Oh. Who bought them?”

The pause didn’t bode well for him. A bead of cold sweat worked down Shuichi’s neck as he felt Miu’s glare burn into him. He turned and tried to give her an innocently confused look.

“Why do you wanna know?” She asked.

“Just curious, I guess?”

Miu pursed her lips. “Man, for a detective, you’re really fucking shit at this interrogation thing.”

“Wh-what? I’m not-!”

“Cut the crap! If you want to know something just fucking ask for it, no-nuts!” Miu leant back on the desk and huffed. “Look, I don’t care what kind of perverted shit you want to get up to with those cameras. But if that’s all you wanted it for you’d just ask me to make another set. And I would! Easy as pie. And boring too, but whatever, right?

“But if you want me to snitch on someone else, you’re gonna have to give me a bit more than some shy smiles and red faces, ya hear me? You can’t flutter those girly lashes of yours and expect me to melt like Kaede.”

“What?!” Shuichi blurted.

“Oh please, you’re probably suffocating between those thighs every night. And I don’t care, unless you’re also taping it.” She grinned. “Ooh, maybe that’s what it for, huh? Wanna get every angle of her tits bouncing, right? Or maybe you’re the one doing the riding! I bet that tight ass of yours looks great sliding down a-”

“That’s enough!” Shuichi snapped.

Miu squeaked and shrank back, her bravado melting like a snowball in Death Valley. “D-don’t do that!”

“Ah, sorry…” His face burnt brighter than the stifling lamps above him. He scratched the back of his head. “Can you please tell me who bought them?”

“U-Um…” Miu quivered back to standing, nervously looking at the floor. “Maybe someone did buy them off me. But if you think I’m just going to rat them out, you’ve got another thing coming! You’ll have to break me before I give in! Break me over, a-and over…”

Shuichi sighed. “What do you want?”

“Huh? That’s it?” Miu straightened out and pouted. “Ugh, you really are useless. Man the fuck up! Or at least put on some high heels and skirt, you sissy.”

“Miu.”

“Alright, fine! I’ll tell you who bought them, but only if you agree to help me test one of my inventions. Deal?”

“What kind of invention?” He glanced at the shelf beside him.

“Pff, nothing like that, pervert.” She grabbed something from the desk behind her. “Just put these on, okay?”

A pair of glasses hung from her finger. Shuichi cocked his head and squinted at them. They looked ordinary enough; thick rims, basic lenses, barely any decoration at all. Oddly understated for one of Miu’s inventions. “What do they do?”

“Come over here and find out, cumwad!”

He rolled his eyes but relented. He took the glasses and slipped them on. His vision blurred for a second, but other than that, nothing seemed to happen. At least, not to him. Shuichi looked around the lab and everything looked like it had before. Peered over the frames confirmed it. He turned to Miu. “Um… I don’t see any-”

Blood rushed to his face.

“Tada!” Miu grinned, posing with her hand on her hip. “What do you think?”

She stood, in front of the desk, completely naked. Except, not quite: Shuichi could make out a faint outline – a shadow, almost – of where her skirt hung down to her mid-thigh. Small dips where leather straps dug into her skin. Other than that, her hourglass figure lay bare before him. Long legs leading into thick thighs and a waspish waist. A toned stomach and full hips. Shuichi’s eyes wandered upwards against his will. Her enormous tits still pressed tightly against the invisible clothing, squished and squeezed by shirt and bra, giving a clear idea of just how gargantuan they really were. Large pink nipples stood proud on flawless cream skin that swayed with every shift of her body.

“A-are these x-ray glasses?” Shuichi stammered.

“Fuck yeah, they are! My finest work yet!” She grinned. “Bet you’re getting a real eyeful right now, aren’t you?”

“I-I, um…”

“Pfft, look at you! Didn’t take you for the kind of guy to get all hot and bothered over a fucking skeleton!”

He blinked. “Skeleton?”

“Uh, yeah? X-ray glasses? Let you see right through to the bone?” Miu cocked her head. “Why, is something busted?”

“Maybe just a little bit.”

“Dammit! I worked hard on those fuckers!” Groaning, Miu pinched the bridge of her nose. “Hey, if you can’t see my skeleton, then how did you know they were…?”

She petered out as her eyes widened. Shuichi gulped.

“Y-you can see…?” Miu squeaked.

“I’m sorry! I-I’ll take them off, I should have just-”

Her mad cackle echoed through the lab. “I knew you couldn’t resist a peek! Bet you were gonna use those cameras to spy on me, huh? Get a good long look at the gorgeous girl genius in her dorms? Well, looks like I saved you the trouble there! Aw, what’s the matter, did I get it right? Or is all that blood in your boner making you stupid?”

Shuichi covered his crotch, his hand brushing over the hard bulge.

“Hah… go on. Get good long look,” Miu said, her breath short and ragged. “Who wants the video when you can see it live, right?”

She ran her hands over her body, tracing along every curve. Squishing and kneading her breasts in their invisible bra. Miu whimpered, her face flushing the same pink as her outfit, a gloved hand drifting over her stomach and crotch. Though Shuichi knew she was just going over the clothes, through the glasses, it looked as if she were caressing her naked skin. She took a stumbling step forward, and he shrank back. Her tongue flicked over plush lips. A hard squeeze and she moaned, her thighs clamping tightly together.

Shuichi backed into the surgical table, words failing him.

“I bet you just want to get your hard cock out, right? Pull down your zipper and jerk off to my gorgeous body? My big fucking tits?” She mewled, “Go on… I want to see you stroke it to me!”

He ripped the glasses off. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look!”

Miu’s lacy black bra fell to the floor. With a frightened squeak, Shuichi realised she hadn’t just been groping herself: she’d been stripping too. Right down to her skimpy black panties and thigh-high boots. Her tongue rolled around her half-open mouth. Closer and closer, each step adding another degree of heat to Shuichi’s face. Miu’s hands slid up his jacket, her massive tits squeezed between her elbows into a deep valley of temptation.

“What’s the matter?” She breathed, “Don’t know what to do with a body like mine? It’s all yours, Shuichi. Every inch of me. What do you want to do to it? How do you want to fucking ruin me?”

He gulped, tearing his eyes away from the hunger in her eyes. Miu followed his gaze downward. With a little whimper, she dropped to her knees and kissed at his crotch. Her hands tore at his buttons and zipper. Shuichi hissed as his cock popped free, gently bopping Miu on the nose.

“Guess you’re not such a little dick now, huh?” She said, staring up at it.

A quick flick of her tongue and Shuichi almost fell back onto the table. Miu dove in, lavishing his balls with slow licks and long sucks. Her eyes looked up at him with ravenous desperation. The first bead of pre-cum almost had her whimpering as she lapped it up. With a shaky smirk, Miu pushed herself up and sandwiched his cock between her tits. The plush flesh enveloped him completely, trapping his twitching member in soft warmth.

Shuichi braced himself, knuckles whitening on the cold steel. Moving her whole body, Miu bounced her breasts along his shaft, squeezing and kneading them with vigour. She flicked between his red face and the tip of his cock as it poked out of her cleavage. A soft shudder worked through her body, accompanied by something between a squeak and a moan.

“S-so? How does it feel? Better than that flat fuck Kaede’s, right?” She spat on his cock, her tits slowly glistening with it. “Or have you two virgins not gotten that far yet? What’s it like, Shuichi? How does it feel to fuck the best tits in the academy? Shit, probably the whole fucking world!”

“Shut up…” He hissed, and Miu whimpered.

Shuichi’s hips jerked forwards, fucking her slick skin, her breasts jiggling with the impact. She stared down at his cock, her face reddening as he pounded away. Her tongue hung out of her open mouth, brushing along his tip with each thrust. Shuichi ran a hand through her hair, and she whined like a dog. Her legs quivered, and her hips squirmed. It didn’t take long at all for the silky warmth and slick spit to bring the pressure bubbling at his base. His thrusting turned frantic, and Miu started bobbing again, each breath an expectant gasp.

“Come on, come on…” Miu begged, “Hurry up and cum all over me!”

Shuichi bit his lip. With a shuddering gasp, his whole body tensed. The pressure burst in waves rushing up his cock. A white haze filled his head while the pleasure shook his hips. Miu squeaked as the first rope of cum splattered across her cheek, the rest shooting and oozing out onto the vast expanse of cleavage swallowing Shuichi’s cock. He could feel it pool around his shaft: feel her shiver against him, pressing her body closer as if to could catch any more that might leak from him.

Letting out a held breath, Shuichi slumped back onto the surgical table. He panted for a few seconds until his body wanted to listen to him again. Sweat stuck his hair to his brow. Shaking his head free of the haze, Shuichi stared down at the floor. “S-sorry for the mess.”

“Call me a cumslut.”

He looked up, the image of her hungry face dripping with his cum seared forever in his memory.

“Please,” Miu moaned. She dragged her finger over her full breasts, scooping up a dollop of cum. Free from their bra and her hands, her tits looked almost as big as her head. “Please, please…”

“I-I, um. You’re a-”

“Not like that!” She pressed herself against him, her eyes manic. Angry. Lustful. “You gotta mean it! Call me a filthy, good-for-nothing cumdumpster!”

Shuichi kicked her back in panic. “Back off, you, um, stupid whore!”

Miu squealed, hugging herself tightly. She staggered upright on shaky legs, breath coarse and shallow. Shuichi couldn’t tell what was going on behind her glazed expression. As if something snapped, she lunged towards a desk and shoved everything on it to one side, sending beakers and tools skittering across the floor. Pressing herself onto it, Miu presented her shapely arse toward him. He squeaked as he spied the wet patch on her lace panties.

“Come over here and fuck me,” She growled, “I don’t care what it takes: get that dick hard and pound my brains out!”

He didn’t have to worry about getting erect again: just the sight of her shaking her hips was enough to bring him back to full mast. Shuichi peeled her panties aside, brushing his thumb up her folds, and was rewarded with a gasp. His cock sank down to the hilt in one stroke: her cunt greedily sucking him in with its tight warmth. Miu’s back arched, her chest squished against the steel desk, and her arse pushed back against him.

“You really are a slut, aren’t you?” Shuichi whispered.

“What did you- eep!” She shrieked as he spanked her.

“I said,” – he grabbed a handful of blonde locks – “That you’re a filthy slut.”

Shuichi swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and yanked on Miu’s hair. The animalistic squeal sent a shiver down his spine and through his cock. Pulling a little with each thrust, his pace increased as he fucked her into the desk. The more she melted under him, the more his confidence grew; why be afraid of hurting someone who loved the pain? Another quick smack and her knees knocked together. Miu’s hips bounced back on his, her desperation apparent.

Shuichi watched her plush rump jiggle with each impact. Listened to the moans and gasps pouring out of her. Another harsh tug on her hair and Miu’s pussy clenched around him, tempting him to go harder. Faster. The pressure at his base built too quickly, and he forced himself to slow down. To make her whine. He spanked her until her arse glowed red, adjusted his footing, and fucked her until she could only mewl in delight. His cock glided in her slick, tight cunt – arousal dripping down both her thighs and his sack.

“You like that?” He tried to growl, but it was more of a short breath. “Being treated like a whore?”

She nodded, burying her head into her forearms. Her legs shook, threatening to collapse. Shuichi barely caught himself, a wave of pleasure forcing out a sharp gasp.

“Are you close?” Miu whimpered, “Are you gonna cum? Hurry up and fill me with a fat load of baby-batter already! I want it! Please, knock up your dirty cumdumpster!”

He prayed it was just dirty talk. But Miu’s pleading spurred him on, awakening something primal in him. Why not give her what she wanted? Shuichi grabbed her by the waist and pounded as hard as his burning thighs would allow. Miu threw her head back, mouth open and tongue lolling as he pulled viciously on her hair. The edge grew closer and closer, every thrust just not quite enough to push him over…

Shuichi cried out as he slammed into her, his whole body tensing. Miu squealed as the first pulse ripped up his cock and she quivered; her cunt tightening around him as spasms wracked her body. The screaming echoed in Shuichi’s mind, penetrating the white haze, her shudders in time with each burst of pleasure. With each rope of cum he pumped into her. The walls of her pussy milked him for every last drop.

He slid out, stumbling back and catching himself on the surgical table. Miu slumped to her knees, her thighs still quivering. Sweat rolled off her, sticking her long hair to her back. Shuichi shook his head to clear it. He licked his dry lips and tried not to stare as his cum leaked onto the floor beneath her.

“You really came inside me,” She moaned, her fingers playing with her dripping snatch.

“It’s…” He fumbled. “It’s what you deserve.”

Miu mewled, burying her head into the desk. “Fuck, yes…”

Shuichi straightened himself out, fingers trembling as his face continued to burn with shame. Hesitating, he ran his hand through her hair. “Um, you still owe me, you know.”

“Mm…” She mumbled, “I-I can suck your dick later if you want. Or you can fill me up again. Fuck me in any hole you want. Make me your brainless little-”

He awkwardly cleared his throat. “I meant the information. About the cameras?”

“Oh. That. I dunno who bought them. Just kinda dropped them off somewhere, as instructed. They left the cash, and I figured why not? Not like I care. Just dumped it in the darkroom and didn’t get yelled at or whatever.”

“You don’t know anything else?”

Miu half-heartedly shrugged. Shuichi chewed his lip: well, he had a location, at least. He considered thanking Miu, but from the way she stared into space with her fingers still stroking her folds, he figured she wouldn’t hear him anyway.

The fresh outside air was a welcome relief after the stench of sweat and sex that saturated the lab. It let Shuichi think about what Miu had said. There was a darkroom in the old school building – well, a classroom converted into one. But that left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The room was for student club use, but there was only one student whose talent needed it.

Ultimate Photographer Mahiru Koizumi.


	3. Decisive Evidence

There was no way Mahiru was the voyeur.

Shuichi didn’t know her personally – not very well, at least – but her reputation was spotless. The kind of girl who held the guys accountable for their bullshit. The idea of her setting up a secret surveillance network for any reason, let alone perverted ones, was unthinkable! No, it was far more likely that someone had used the room as a drop-off point. If that was the case, then there might be clues left behind. And if not, well… Mahiru herself might be able to help.

The darkroom didn’t look any different to one of the regular classrooms, except for the blackout curtains. Shuichi pressed his ear to the door and, when he didn’t hear anything, knocked. Three separate knocks and no answer on any of them. No one home, then. He tried the lock and, to his surprise, the door swung open.

Mahiru didn’t seem like the type to forget to lock up.

Hurrying inside, Shuichi closed the door behind him. A large black curtain kept light form the door ruining the photographs, and beyond that, the place was filled with an eerie red light. Tables stacked with fluid-filled trays lined the walls. Shuichi ducked under a clothesline and made his way deeper. There really wasn’t going to be an easy way to look for clues in this light, and he didn’t want to ruin Mahiru’s hard work.

He blinked away some of the exhaustion – four times in one day was absurd for him. What was Mahiru working on, anyway? Photography was a pretty immense talent to have. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he reached up and gently eased one of the clotheslines down to peer at the pictures pinned there.

Shuichi sucked in a sharp breath, staring up at Tsumugi Shirogane’s o-face.

He let the picture go and snatched another one, this time greeted by Aoi Asahina changing into her gym outfit; tanned body tinted in the red gloom. In another he saw the princess of Novoselic ride her six-foot breeder boyfriend, a gleeful Angie lapping at her cunt. Every photo held a similar scene in the onsen, the locker rooms, the library... And all of them of the same exceptional quality.

“She’s the voyeur,” Shuichi whispered.

A hand clapped over his mouth. He pushed back, struggling against the grip. A rag pressed over his nose, laced with a thick chemical smell. Darkness flooded his vision, his limbs growing heavy. His eyelids drooping. His consciousness sinking into an inky blackness…

***

Shuichi’s head throbbed as he blinked away the blurriness. Everything swam through tar for a few seconds, until finally, his thoughts settled. The darkroom. Pictures. Mahiru.

Something thick and coarse tightened around his wrists. His snapped his head up, testing the bonds around his legs and arms. He lay on pink sheets, atop the kind of stiff mattress he knew from his own dorm room. A quick glance around confirmed it: he was in someone’s bedroom. Probably a girl’s. And likely the new building as well, going by the brushed steel and black glass furnishings. His arms stretched above him, tied to the headboard via a belt. His ankles didn’t fare better.

“A-are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?” Someone asked.

Shuichi turned as best he could. Two figures, one sat on the bed while the other stood with her arms folded. Mahiru Koizumi and her dear friend Hiyoko Saionji. Blood drained from Shuichi’s face.

“You’re the voyeur, aren’t you?” He asked.

Mahiru’s freckled cheeks turned as red as her hair. She nodded and curled up, clutching her camera tight against her olive-green dress.

“Whoops! Did that take you a while to figure out, Sherlock?” Hiyoko snickered down at him: something she could actually manage after her growth spurt. Her pretty pink cherry-blossom kimono did not go with the smug sneer on her face.

“I don’t understand,” Shuichi said, “Why would you-?”

“Because she gets off on it, stupid!” Hiyoko’s large blonde ponytail swished behind her as she turned and glared at him with an intensity reserved for rowdy students. “Jeez, you’d think a detective would have that one worked out!”

Mahiru chewed her lip. “I-I’m sorry. I’m really sorry! But she’s right. The thought of capturing all those intimate moments just makes me…”

She whimpered, grinding her pale, slender legs together. “I don’t want to do it, but I can’t help myself! Y-you understand, right? Guys have uncontrollable urges too!”

“You don’t have to explain it to him,” Hiyoko said, “He was the one staring at all the photos in the darkroom. He was probably saving them in his spank-bank.”

“I was not!” Shuichi said, his cheeks lighting up. He glanced at Mahiru, who swallowed, her hands trembling. Did that thought excite her too?

“I bet you’re as bad as that pig-slut Mikan! Or you will be, once we’re done getting all the pictures we want.”

“What?”

“Are you an idiot? I can’t have you ruining Big Sis’ reputation.” Hiyoko snickered behind her hand. “When we’re done, if you try to say a word, we’ll make sure everyone knows you’re a bondage-loving bitch boy.”

Mahiru slid off the bed. “Sorry, Shuichi…”

“Wait, you don’t have to this!” His heart pounded in his chest. “All I want is for you to take the cameras down. I don’t have to say a thing, okay?”

“Shut up! Am I going to have to gag you?” Hiyoko snapped.

The redhead sucked in a sharp breath, looking down at Shuichi’s bound body. She bit her lower lip, her hands shaking as she brought the camera to her eye. It clicked, and he swore she squeezed her thighs together.

Hiyoko smirked as she undid her sash. The kimono fell away to reveal a perfect hourglass body and flawless cream skin. Shuichi’s eyes widened as she sashayed toward him, wide hips swinging and ample breasts lightly swaying. She dragged a finger from the patch of pale hair marking her crotch, skipping lightly across her navel and between her tits. And scowled as she shoved the finger into his mouth.

“Enjoy, it’s all you’re getting.” 

Climbing onto the bed, Hiyoko ground the ball of her foot into his crotch. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to emphasise just where she thought he belonged. Biting his lip, Shuichi squirmed under her, trying to focus on anything but the harsh rubbing. His body had other ideas.

“Huh? Already?” Her voice dripped with disgust. “Are you enjoying this, loser?”

She straddled his legs and yanked his trousers off. A barely contained giggle set Shuichi’s cheeks ablaze. “You really are, aren’t you? Jeez, you’re pathetic.”

Hiyoko shimmied his boxers away, his cock springing free. Mahiru squeaked. A half dozen clicks from the camera filled Shuichi’s stomach with dread and shame. His hips recoiled from Hiyoko’s touch. Light scratches left trails of goosebumps. She roughly grabbed his cock and pumped along it: clumsy, rough, and with no regard for how he winced and squirmed.

“Ew, it’s twitching!” Hiyoko spat, rubbing her saliva into the tip with her thumb. “Is the stupid pervert enjoying himself? Does he want to be called pig-shit while I jerk him off? You’re disgusting!”

Shuichi bit his lip, holding back a whimper. The fear of exposure gave every jolt of pleasure a terrifying, electric edge. Elegant fingers curled around his balls and firmly squeezed, matching the rhythm of her strokes, working him until his thighs quivered. He jerked up, and her laughter burnt his ears. Another camera-click preserved his humiliation. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and hide, but at the same time, his body begged for more. Begged for her thumb to run in circles, for her rhythm to pick up, for her smug look to sear into him. Hiyoko squeezed her tits between her elbows and cackled as he turned away. The pressure bubbled up faster. She had to be able to feel it: the way he twitched as she pulled him closer to the edge.

She let him go, and he whined, thrusting his hips into the air. No! No, no! Shuichi’s cock throbbed with pent-up need. Tears budded in his eyes.

“What, did you think I’d want your nasty spunk on my hands?” Hiyoko pulled something from under the sheets. “As if! The only thing you get to cum in is a plastic pussy.”

Rolling her tongue around her mouth, Hiyoko let a long stream of spit drip into the silicone folds. She took her time with it, long enough for the pressure at Shuichi’s base to fade away. He squirmed against his bonds until red lines formed on his wrists. It wasn’t until he was sure his cock would deflate that Hiyoko grabbed him by the base and violently shoved he onahole onto him.

Wet noises filled the room as she pumped it along his shaft. Lukewarm rubber bumps and ridges ground against his sensitive skin, unlike anything else he’d ever felt. Shuichi gasped as she twisted it: shuddered and twitched as Hiyoko moved at a random pace.

“Aw, do you like that? Better make the most of it; this is the closest a wimp like you will ever get to a real pussy!”

That confirmed there was no live feed in the onsen, then. Shuichi didn’t bother to hold back, letting his hips thrust up into the slippery sex toy. All the pressure from before came rushing back, doubled in strength by the new stimulation. Hiyoko slowed down, giggling as he groaned. She ran her tongue over her lips and finger, taunting him with what he couldn’t have, and held the onahole in place for a few agonising seconds. Shuichi turned away, ignoring the sadistic sneer, trying his luck with his other captor.

Mahiru’s breath ran as ragged as Shuichi’s as she watched his cock move within the translucent plastic. The camera sat silently in her hands.

The rhythm broke him: with a strangled cry, Shuichi arched his back as pleasure ripped up his cock. His mind went blank, battered by the pulses pumping the onahole full of cum. A soft gasp to his side. A shocked squeak from between his legs.

He drooped back onto the bed. Shuichi didn’t know if he had any sweat or cum or energy left in his body. Warm plastic slipped off his cock, letting the tender flesh flop onto his stomach. He blinked the blurriness away, slowly clawing back his breath.

“H-huh? There’s so much!” Hiyoko stared as cum oozed out of the silicone cunt, her face quickly reasserting its smugness. “Did your ‘investigation’ stop you jerking off today?”

Shuichi wracked his head for a comeback, but a low whine cut him off. Mahiru’s dress hit the floor, her trembling fingers fumbling with her tie.

“I-I can’t take it!” She threw herself onto the bed beside Shuichi. Half the buttons on her shirt fell away, exposing flushed skin glistening with sweat. Her hand dove between her thighs, slipping under the thin black panties, ragged moans escaping her. Mahiru’s eyes rolled back. She squirmed, spreading her legs wide and pushing her hips up as her fingers ravaged her cunt.

Hiyoko’s eyes lit up. Abandoning the plastic pussy, she leapt between Mahiru’s legs and pulled the panties aside. With the same teasing giggle as before, she ran her tongue over the redhead’s folds. Mahiru collapsed onto the bed, thighs clamped around Hiyoko’s head, her hands balling into fists in the sheets.

“Did you like it?” Hiyoko purred, “Did Big Sis love seeing me tease the pervert until he creamed? Mm, you’re so wet… It’s so much better live, right?”

Mahiru frantically nodded. She squealed as Hiyoko’s tongue ran circles about her clit, the dancer’s fingers digging into her petite arse. Writhing and bucking, endless squeaks and squeals escaping her. Mahiru’s hands slid up to grope her small breasts through her bra. One shaky hand moved further, brushing past Shuichi’s face. He followed it up until it found the buckle on his wrists.

Between her shaking and her squirming, it took forever for her to undo it. But finally, the jingling metal slipped free, and the belt dropped onto the pillow. Shuichi sat up and rubbed his wrists, tearing his eyes away from the pale body thrashing beside him. Her moans filled his mind as he undid the belt on his ankles.

Something tapped on his arm. He turned as Mahiru wordlessly held the camera out to him. Fresh embarrassment kicked his heart back into overdrive. Shuichi took it from her and settled on his knees, his gaze wandered over the two girls. Mahiru with her petite frame, still tangled in a shirt and bra. Hiyoko’s bare hourglass curves. Holding the camera up to his eye, he snapped a few shots, but… well, photography was hard, even without shaky hands. Or all the distractions.

Mahiru screamed, the sound reverberating down Shuichi’s spine and into his cock. His eyes traced over the arch of Hiyoko’s back, over to her wide hips and firm arse as it wiggled. Exposed, vulnerable… he shifted over, catching sight of her sopping wet pussy. Hiyoko must’ve enjoyed keeping her ‘Big Sis’ on edge.

He licked his lips as a terrible idea crept into his mind; revenge. Mahiru caught his eye, her gaze flicking to the same place. Her cheeks reddened, and she nodded, holding her hand out for the camera. Shuichi gave it over and crept up behind Hiyoko, taking a moment to savour the sight. Without warning, he grabbed her by the waist.

“Huh?!” Hiyoko raised her head, but Mahiru’s legs wrapped tighter and shoved her back down.

Shuichi ground his cock along Hiyoko’s cunt. Muffled shouts turned to half-hearted protests. Her attitude only went so far; it vanished entirely as he pushed his tip into her. Hiyoko’s hips quivered, then shoved back until she’d taken him to the hilt. He spanked her firm arse, the yelp smothered against Mahiru’s pussy, and Shuichi tried not to smile too much.

“Go on…” Mahiru breathed, “Punish her.”

He slammed into Hiyoko. She squealed, her back arching and arse pushing up. Another hard, deep thrust and her knees knocked together. Trapped between them, Hiyoko melted with each impact, her arse jiggling as he fucked her into the sheets. Well, into Mahiru. Shuichi spanked Hiyoko until her cheeks turned red, his weak hips moving on willpower alone. She wriggled and writhed beneath him, but from the sounds Mahiru made, she never stopped pleasing her ‘Big Sis.’

The camera clicked. Mahiru licked her lips and snapped another pic, the lens focused on Hiyoko’s arse. On Shuichi reducing her to a quivering mess. He reached over and pulled on Hiyoko’s ponytail; her whole body clenched around his cock. Whines and moans leaked out of her, her hips crashing against his as her tight cunt pulled him as deep as it could.

“Oh god,” Mahiru whimpered, “That’s it, m-make her…!”

She bit her lip, but couldn’t hold back her scream. Her legs squeezed tight, crushing Hiyoko’s head between them, while her whole body tensed. Throwing her head back, Mahiru shuddered against the bed.

Hiyoko’s hands balled around the sheets. Her hips stopped suddenly, leaving Shuichi to pound her at his own pace. Muffled cries became a suffocated squeal. Shuichi gasped as the pressure rushed up, milked out of him as Hiyoko came on his cock. With a grunt, fucked her as hard as he could until the pleasure shot through him: each pulse pumping another rope of cum into her greedy cunt.

He blinked, and next Shuichi knew, he lay on his back. The world swam above him, exhaustion tugging at his conscious mind. A slender figure straddled his waist. Warmth enveloped his cock, the flesh stinging with painful pleasure. His hands slid up sweat-soaked thighs to a shivering waist. A red blur became a dishevelled bob of vibrant hair. Shuichi shook his head and stared breathlessly up at Mahiru as she rolled her hips. Bounced on his aching shaft. 

Hiyoko lay beside him, her reddened arse still in the air. She caught his eye and buried her head into the sheets with a huff.

Trembling fingers turned Shuichi’s gaze upwards. Mahiru bit her lip as she rode him hard, her arse hitting his thighs with a harsh smack. He didn’t have the energy to thrust or buck. Lying back, Shuichi watched her small chest sway: watched her body rock and wriggle with every adorable gasp.   
He barely felt the pressure work back up his cock. Mahiru slammed down, covering her mouth with her fist as she trembled atop him. As the spasms ripped through her, dragging one final orgasm out of him. Shuichi’s breath hitched, the weak pulses leaving him shattered. A small, exhausted kind of pleasure washing over him as he pumped a load into her. She quivered with each twitch of his cock, small streams of cum leaking out of her.

Mahiru slowly dropped onto him, resting her head on his chest. Her ragged breath tickled his sweaty skin. Shuichi curled an arm around her, letting her warmth settle. He could barely think through the fog in his head.

“Stupid pig-shit loser,” Hiyoko panted, “Can’t get anyone on your own, even with that cock…”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to care. His dry lips cracked, his throat rough as sandpaper. The camera lay beside him, a reminder, but there was no way he could talk about it now. Seven times in one day drained every last drop out of him. Darkness crept upon him, and he welcomed it.

There was always later.


End file.
